


Lines

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today it was about the cars. And maybe it was about something, he didn't know, bigger. (Post-season 5.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works. ____spacer____

He drove a lot that summer. First, over the back roads near home, then ranging farther afield until both he and Lisa thought nothing of him driving for days so he could look at cars. School was out and Ben was too young to work so the first time he entered a show he took Ben with him to "man the chamois and keep fingerprints off my baby."

Not that he minded anyone touching his baby as long as they knew how to treat her right. The car club members, they did, walking around her, diving deep into her engine or laying their hands flat on her hood and sharing memories. He started hanging out with the ones who drove their cars and looking askance at the ones who tooled up on sunny mornings with their antique plates proclaiming they only drove their cars so far and no more. He loved his car but couldn't imagine loving her so much that he'd put her away and keep her from doing what she was made to do.

Ben was excited, bouncing up and down on the seat as they pulled into their assigned space. Dean was excited, too, but he held in his bouncing, wanting to look like the kind of guy who was cool enough to own this car. "1967 Chevrolet Impala" he printed on the identification card then hesitated over the line marked owner. "Dean Campbell" he finally wrote while Ben squirmed up and down, eyes darting around the site.

"Do you think we're going to be next to other Impalas?" he asked. "Or other Chevys? Or cars from the Sixties? Or muscle cars? Or...?"

Dean chuckled and rested his hand awkwardly on Ben's shoulder. "Could be random, dude. But don't worry about it, we'll walk around so you can see everything."

"Deeeeeeeeeean," Ben rolled his eyes. "I don't care about that, I just want us to look good!"

Almost, _almost_, he smirked and said something about how he was always looking good. He was still that guy, still the one who knew just how far charm could get him and who wanted all the attention he could get, but Ben wasn't that kid. Ben wasn't bait and Dean, for maybe the first time in a long time wasn't looking for that kind of attention. Today it was about the cars. And maybe it was about something, he didn't know, bigger.

He didn't have words for this, so as they walked around the site he let Ben ask questions and if he couldn't answer he found someone who could. The kid had a taste for the oldies, spent a long time looking at a [1934 Packard Super Eight](http://americas-classic-cars.com/Cars/Classic/1930/1934-Packard-Super-Eight/1934-Packard-Super-Eight.htm) then nearly lost it over a [1930 Cadillac V16 Roadster](http://americas-classic-cars.com/Cars/Classic/1930/1930-Cadillac-V-16-Roadster/1930-Cadillac-V-16-Roadster.htm). "The lines," Ben said, running his hand in the air over a swooping fender. "Look at 'em, Dean. Just look!"

"It's a beauty," he said. Still, it was breaking his heart that the kid had settled on the Thirties for his dream car. "How about some muscle with your lines, huh?"

Ben cocked his head and Dean lead him past the cars that he knew he was going to have to return to--the ['63 Buick Riviera](http://americas-classic-cars.com/Cars/Classic/1960/1963-Buick-Riviera/1963-Buick-Riviera.htm), the ['68 Mustang](http://americas-classic-cars.com/Cars/Classic/1960/1968-Ford-Mustang-GT/1968-Ford-Mustang-GT.htm)\--and straight toward a [1969 Corvette Stingray](http://americas-classic-cars.com/Cars/Classic/1960/1969-Chevrolet-Corvette-Stingray/1969-Chevrolet-Corvette-Stingray.htm). "Like that?"

"Ooh, yeah." Ben twisted around him, took a quick look at the car's ID, then presented himself to the owner. He wanted to know everything. He talked about the body and Dean thought he'd lost him until he heard Ben say proudly, "we've got a Sixty-Seven Impala."

The owner met Dean's look with a smile and leaned down to talk to Ben. "I always wanted one of those. Show me?"

Ben was off, Dean trailing behind, hearing the kid chatter on about engines and bodywork, telling a story he only half-knew about how once there was a bad accident--"but it's okay, Dean's _fine_"--and Dean rebuilt the car himself. Ben wanted to learn to do that someday, he said. But maybe he'd do it on an old Roadster and probably Dean could help him, because even though Dean liked cars that looked one way and Ben liked ones that looked another, it was really all about the engines, right?

"My kid likes video games," the Vette's owner whispered to Dean when Ben ran ahead. "At least yours is in the same ballpark as you."

"Same garage," Dean said, laughing even though as jokes go it wasn't that great, and not saying that Ben might or might not be his kid because he was learning that sort of thing maybe didn't matter so much.

It wasn't even about Ben, he thought later that day when he was leaning against a wall in the shade near the Impala and watching Ben snapping pictures of engine blocks. Nor was it about the ready-made family he was terrified he was creating out of Lisa and Ben, as if he could slide into their lives and completely forget about his own. It was about him and how he could fit in this world. He had a hobby, and he couldn't even believe that, and a pocket full of business cards with job offers for restoration work scribbled on the back of them. He had friends who understood that you had to let things do what they were made to do, that cars had to be driven and people had to follow their own paths.

Ben talked all the way to the hotel then fell asleep as soon as he got into bed. Dean called Lisa to tell her that her kid was okay and that maybe he was, too. After she wished him a good night he sat there for a while, staring out into the parking lot, the Impala nearly lost in shadows. There were still weapons hidden in her trunk and she was still able to do her job, but it didn't sit nearly as well with him as it would have a few years ago to leave someone alone in a hotel while he went out to kill whatever was stalking the night and leaving evidence where he could see it alongside the road. He called an old number, said "hi, Bobby," in a voice he almost didn't recognize, and passed along what little he knew.

"I'll get the next one," he said. "But I've got Ben, tonight, and we're on a road trip. Better I handle stuff closer to me when I won't have to worry about him."

"About damn time," Bobby said.

"I couldn't," he stammered out. "I wasn't ready."

"Not that, ya idjit. I always knew you'd be hunting again. You're not the kind to let evil walk by. But it's about damn time you had something else, too." He paused. "None of us ever really got a chance at that kind of life. Maybe now you do. Take it."

They made a deal for Bobby to keep an eye out for the parts Dean thought he'd need for the restorations and they talked, hesitantly, about visiting. It became more enthusiastic when Dean told him about Ben's new love for "the lines, man, the lines" and Bobby mentioned the old Ford pickup from the 30s that was sitting in his yard. Ben stirred in his sleep and Dean ended the conversation before he was up all night with an over-excited kid planning a vacation to "Uncle Bobby's" salvage yard.

It tugged at him a little, that he'd left something out there and that someone might get hurt. But tonight it was Ben he needed to protect, and this part of his world he needed to live in. Not everything was his responsibility, he thought as he sunk into sleep. He was just awake enough to recognize that as something new to him and just sleepy enough to let it slide by unpondered.


End file.
